


Taste it in Your Tears

by NarryEm



Series: Fantasy Alternate Universes/Multiverse [3]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Dark Magic, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Open Relationships, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryEm/pseuds/NarryEm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry used to be pure.  When Niall came into his life and taught him to embrace the dark arts.  They now live the life of shadows and deceit, feeding the Darkness that in turn gifts them with unimaginable powers. </p><p>Michael just happens to be at the perfectly wrong place at the right time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. solas na gréine

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "My Last Breath" by Evanescence.
> 
> Uhm, I don't really know where this came from other than the fact that I wanted to write some porn with plot? Explicit rating is due to both sexual content and mentions of graphic violence.
> 
> *EDITED AND _SLIGHTLY_ REWRITTEN AS OF FEB 6, 2015*

**_1678, Northern England_ **

Harry awakes with the remnants of his dream fresh in his mind. In his dream, he saw the slim brunet again. He had blue eyes that outshone the stars and a smile that was pure and enigmatic.  It's frustrating, having the True Sight but not necessarily being clairvoyant.  He wishes that he was like Louis, who was a Seer and could predict the future at times. Sure, visions could be confusing, but not as bad as the seemingly meaningless dreams.

Eventually, he crawls out of his bed and goes about his daily business.  He opens up his apothecary and chats with the customers. They like to think that the herbs and other stuff he sells are folkloric remedies but what they don't know won't hurt them. A little bit of boost of magic never hurt anyone in his opinion.

It's looks like a typical September day. The skies are clear and the summer heat is clinging to the ground and the occasional breezes are balmy and teasing.  A lot of the people are lounging in the sun, soaking up the precious rays of sun whilst they still can.

The door chime rings and Harry straightens himself up from the counter.  The customer is someone who looks familiar yet Harry has no idea why. Not until he looks into his blue eyes, anyway.

 

Having the True Sight can be frightening. Ever since Harry was little, he could see wisps of colours around people. His mum told him that he was seeing auras and that soon, he would start having dreams that could have a significant impact on his life.  The auras were hard to decipher, as everyone had his or her own and it was up to Harry to interpret the different arrangements of colour and how they behaved and the gut feeling that he got.  As he grew older, he learned to ignore people's auras for the most part, choosing not to be privy to everyone's internal state.  However, it was bloody impossible to not stare into a person's _soul_ when his eyes were looking straight into the other person's. That was why Harry avoided doing that as much as possible.

 

Today, however, it was as though there was a pull between the two of them. Harry could not pass the chance of gazing into the stranger's eyes. They were a lovely shade of blue, clear and shining brighter than the late-summer sun.

Just like the boy from his dreams.

"Thank god for me tracking skills," the stranger says in relief, his Irish brogue thick. "I'm Niall, and I already know that you're Harry. Been seein' me in ya dreams, I assume. I think that's Fate's way o' tellin' us that we were meant to meet one day. They probably didn't plan on one o' us bein' a tracker. I also seem to have an affinity for air, which can come in handy at times."

"Hi," Harry breathes out, head in a whirlwind from the information that Niall has just divulged. "You are not from around here."

"No.  It's sad how much England has changed.  Back in me hometown, magic isn't something that people shun and hide.  Old Magick roams free in th' fields and the woods, and sometimes, the children can see them and play with them--somethin' to do with children bein' pure and all.  I used to talk t' this wind spirit all th' time at me backyard and me parents would smile through the window."

"You know about magic," Harry states slowly, still not having processed this completely.

"'Course I do. Been raised like this me whole life.  I see that things are different in England.  You lot try to hide what is different from what it expected of ya, ashamed of it, even. Not natural, that isn't.  Won't do you a lot o' good if you keep all that energy trapped inside ya, I'm sure.  Come, we gotta go."

"Where?" Harry asks, confused as to how this person could have possibly stumbled into his life.

"Everywhere!"

 

Everywhere turns out to the deep forests just outside of the town where no one dares to venture.  Niall smirks and simply whispers in a language long forgotten to the Englishmen and to Harry's surprise, the forest floor lights up with the little sprites. They titter and float around, as whimsical as the wind and more powerful that Harry could have imagined even in his wildest dreams.  Niall goes to pet at them and some of them gather around Niall's feet, some soaring to perch atop his light brown hair. He speaks to them in a that strange language once more and they commune with him for a while.

"This forest is magnificent," Niall muses. "Surprisingly full of fire sprites and some of the air ones as well. You should try to find out which element is the closest t' ya.  Every mage has an element that favours to his invocation.  You seem like an earth person t' me."

And Niall is absolutely right.  When Harry opens his arms in the way that Niall demonstrates and utters the words that Niall teaches him with boundless patience, he soon finds himself surrounded by the rich earthy smells of freshly dug-up soil and the grass. Transclucent and ethereally beatific creatures flutter about his head and he can hear an approximation of giggles.

"They are lively, are they not?" Niall asks, grinning from ear to ear. He is the very picture of ease and relaxed, air sprites surrounding him and his eyes seeming to glow preternaturally with power. "Love it when I find a good spot."

"I never knew that they existed," Harry admits, smiling when an earth sprite climbs onto his shoes.  Warmth and comfort radiates from its touch and Harry's eyes slide closed on their own accord.

"They are not so difficult to find if you know how.  I could teach ya more."

"That would be brilliant. Uhm, if you don't mind asking, how old are you?"

Niall smirks. "Would ya believe me if I said ninety-seven?"

Harry sputters. "That is impossible. You barely look over the age of nineteen."

"That's the thing with magic. As long as you cycle back the energy you gain from the world, you can keep up appearances. Been lookin' this way since before this century. Some of me family chose this way as well, and Josh too. I can teach ya how to harness the energy."

Harry nods his yes.

He's not sure if Niall is a blessing yet.

 

 

-

 

 

Months pass and Harry knows. He can feel it in his blood whenever Niall is near and in his heart when they are apart.

He has fallen for the Irish mage.

It wasn't that hard to be honest. Niall is amiable and he managed to charm Harry's mum upon first meeting.  Louis was guarded but Liam was quick to fall under Niall's thrall. Once Louis came around, Niall taught them everything that he has learned over the decades.  These magic lessons are exhilerating as well as exhausting.  Trying to control his magic is akin to vigorous exercise, only at a mental level.  At the end of each session, Harry just wants to curl up into a ball in his bed and sleep for ages.  Preferably with Niall in his arms.

 

Tonight is the night of the full moon and it's so lovely. He and Niall are sat on the rooftop, gazing up into the sky. Niall's hair looks nearly dark silver washed in the moonlight and his eyes sparkle. Harry has a strong urge to lean over and kiss him but he suppresses it.

"It's a beautiful night, ain't it?" Niall comments, his shoulder bumping Harry's slightly.

"Indeed," Harry agrees, leaning into the touch.

"Kind of night that makes you want to make love," Niall comments offhandedly and Harry blushes.

Before Harry has a chance to think of what Niall could have actually meant, there is a pair of perfectly soft and warm lips pressing into his. He parts his lips out of reflex and kisses Niall back, who is so obviously experienced in this sort of matter. Pale hands come to gently tangle into Harry's curls and tug at them a bit, eliciting little moans of pleasure from Harry.

"Shh," Niall whispers against his lips. "Jus' relax, Harry. Let me show you exactly what you've been wantin'."

One of Niall's hands skim down the side of Harry's sides. It's early March yet and it should be chilly.  Except, Niall must be spelled because it is unusually hot.  Harry lets out a gasp-moan when Niall's hand dips down the back of his trousers and slowly skims over to the front.  He has never done this before, not with a girl or a lad.  He tenses up when Niall's callused fingers grasps his length. Niall gives it a pump and Harry groans, hips bucking up to chase the feeling. Niall only smirks as he lays his other hand on Harry's hip, holding him down.

"Gotta be patient, love," Niall commands. "Can't be greedy."

Harry whines, already too aroused hold himself back and needing more and more of Niall.

Niall lowers himself, hand still working over Harry's arousal expertly and slowly. His aura is a viscous dried-blood red and ocean blue, clashing and then melting into one another smoothly at intervals. He lowers Harry's trousers so that the waist of it pools around Harry's knees. He spreads Harry's legs and then winks at him before he lowers his head.

The first time Niall's mouth makes contact with Harry's cock, Harry swears loudly.  A bright blush creeps down his neck as Niall licks at the tip and Harry gets frustrated with the teasing pace.  He tries bucking his hips up into Niall's mouth but Niall is stronger than he looks.  The Irishman keeps him down so easily, especially now that Harry is distracted by the sweet rapture.  He begins to bob his head up and down and Harry can't think straight with the nameless pleasure radiating throughout his body.  When Niall hums, Harry is sure that he'll come right there and then.

"So responsive," Niall muses, pulling off for a quick breath. He flips Harry over and starts to kiss and nip at the curve of his arse.

"So tasty." His tongue makes its way down the crevice of his bum cheeks and Harry groans when Niall laps at his entrance.  He has heard of men doing these sort of things to each other but having this done to him in reality is so much different and better.  Harry begins to rock his hips back unconsciously, wanting Niall to be _inside_ of him. And he gets his wish in a couple minutes, the tip of Niall's tongue teasing the walls of his tight passage.

"Love it when you moan like that," Niall remarks, and Harry's breath hitches in his throat.  Harry clamps a hand atop his mouth, attempting to deter the embarrassing sounds from escaping his mouth.  Niall nips at his rim, making him yelp.  "Don't hide what you feel, Harry.  _Never_ do that." 

So Harry lets himself get lost in the throes of painfully intense passion.  Niall's hand comes up to grasp his erection and he can barely hold it back before he releases all over Niall's hand and his on his own stomach.  Moments later, once the stars have disappeared from his vision and the pleasure is a thrumming ghost in his blood, he turns to face Niall who is grinning smugly.

"Thank you," he whispers, voice shot and breathless.

"Anytime, love. Now, will you be ready to go again? Because I seem to have a little problem of me own."

Harry laughs. "Give me a few minutes to recover first, yeah?"

 

Niall is quite impatient. He tongues at the column of Harry's throat, finding his weak spot quickly.  He toys with Harry's nipples, laving them with his tongue and tweaking the other with his deft fingertips.  Harry wants to complain but really, the things Niall can do to his body are as addictive as the powers flowing through his blood when he is using magic.  He soon succumbs to Niall's administrations, wincing slightly when Niall accidentally brushes his hand against his sensitive prick.

"Sorry." Niall mumbles, lips pressed to his heart. "I swear I'll make it all better."

And he does.  He has two slick fingers tucked inside of Harry in a matter of minutes all the whilst he is kissing Harry expertly.  Harry picks up some tricks from his lover and receprocates happily.  Niall responds the most deliciously when he bites on his lower lip and pulls it away from his teeth.  Growling, Niall pushes Harry down to the rooftop and smiles at him angelically. "I would love to ravish you right here but if we are to do that, I'll have to make a few adjustments."

As soon as the words leave Niall's mouth, a thick veil of air surrounds them, blurring the view of the sky from Harry's eyes.

"Simple clouding spell, much easier when you've an affinity for air," Niall quips a second before he returns to kissing Harry.

Kissing is such a nice gesture, Harry decides.  He would gladly do it forever if not for the more pressing matter that were plaguing him right now.  He can feel Niall's arousal poking at his hips and the very sensation is enough to make his own dick throb with want and need.  A needy whimper escapes his mouth and Niall pulls back, allowing Harry to see that his blue eyes have darkened so much that Harry can barely see a ring of the celestial blue around the dilated black irises.  Niall's aura is a solid mess of the colour of midnight without stars, so dark and so _mesmerising_.

"Ya ready?" Niall asks, crooking his fingers inside of Harry and gods, that feels like shocks of pleasure are travelling straight up his spine.

"Yes, yes, yes," he pants, thoughts devolving into nothing more than _NiallNiallNiall_ and _moremoremore_.

Niall pushes at Harry's thighs so that they are spread out even more and have him plant his feet on the roof so that his bum is more exposed and vulnerable. There is a sound of spitting and then something hot and slippery makes contact with Harry's opening.  Harry whimpers at the feel of it, rocking his hips down.  Niall enters him slowly but even that is too much, too tight and full and it stings.  A teardrop or two falls down his cheek and Harry bites at his lip to prevent it from happening again.

"Sorry, love," Niall mumbles.  He kisses the stray tear awap and remains still for a couple minutes.  During the wait Niall showers his face and neck with tender kisses before Harry nods for him to continue.

Niall's initial movements are lazy and languid, hips only swivelling to help Harry get used to the sensations.  Harry soon grows tired of them and when he groans (perhaps too greedily) Niall pulls out nearly all the way with a throaty laugh before he slams right back in.  The sharpness of it has Harry seeing stars and muttering oaths.  His lower body seems to have mind of its own as his hips chase Niall's, their bodies moving in synch as pleasure builds and thrums inside Harry's body.  Never in his life had he imagine being this enraptured, much less experienced it.  It's exhilarating and electrifying.  The latter could be from their magic being loosed as they grow less and less concerned of controlling their magic but whatever.  Earthly breezes sweep through the night sky and Harry can see Niall's blue, blue eyes shining like the stars above them, with adoration and lust and power that Harry desperately needs to taste.

The touch of their lips brings upon Harry's own undoing and aided by Niall's talented hand working him over, Harry releases his seed with a cry of Niall's lips.  His lover is quick to follow, hips stuttering as he is close to his own climax.  It's sticky and more than a wee bit gross in the aftermath but Harry doesn't mind too much.  This has been his best night of his life so far.

"I love you," he murmurs and he could have sworn that he hears Niall say the same back before sleep overcomes him.

 

 

-

 

 

With each day that passes, their love grows.  Harry can see it in Niall's eyes each morning and it doesn't take too long before they build a house together at the edge of a forest. It's an ideal life, Harry thinks.  They practice magic whenever they can and sell the herbs and such for money.  Niall reluctantly reveals that he has a small bit of fortune thanks to his family but he says that Harry can keep running his shop because Harry is emotionally attached to his little apothecary.

Upon the day of the Summer Solstice, Niall takes Harry on a trip to the Scottish Highlands. He promises that the ancient magic that resides there are spectacular, especially during a solstice.

"It's like the powers feed upon the energy of the sun," Niall explains as they trek through the barren fields. "Real beauty, they are. The night is lit up by all those sprites and other entities of power so that they _glow_. You'll love it."

The warm afternoon sun fades into dusk and then the night. The nocturnal air is filled with unusual silence and Harry watches with hushed breaths as little figures of nothingness begin to appear. They flicker in and out of existence, as though they were not made to stay on the plaintive Earth realm. They are exquisite and Harry can feel the thrum of his magic intensify with each moment that passes. He interlocks his fingers with Niall's and knows that Niall is in the same state.  Their energies flow together, creating a pleasant blue-brown aura around them.  (Harry has noticed that their auras have changed, becoming slightly more like each other and their colours mixing and swirling together when they are standing next to each other.)

It doesn't take long for Harry to notice that something isn't quite right. Whilst the sprites are dancing merrily, there is something dark about the way they are moving. The shake of the ground beneath them is ominous and so is the darkening of the skies even with the moon that was full only a couple nights ago.

"Niall," Harry voices his concern. "What is happening?"

"'M sorry, Harry," Niall whispers as Harry's world goes black.

 

 

-

 

 

Harry awakes to the sound of howling wolves and a wash of cold over his bare skin. His eyes snap open and he tries to sit upright, hindered by the thick vines binding him. Glancing down, he quickly discovers that he is skyclad.

"It was necessary," Niall explains, his voice clipped and sinister.

"Nialler . . ." Harry trails off not sure what to ask. "What are you doing?"

"We need more power for what's to come and my powers comes from the tainting of the innocent," Niall mutters, and then chants in a language that Harry does not understand at all.  It's raspy and inhuman-sounding, and for a second Harry wonders if Niall has been possessed.

"I am not possessed, if that's what yer thinkin'," Niall says when he is done chanting his invocations.  "It's the language of the ancient gods, the ones that people of this day and age scarcely remember.  I wouldn't have known it had I not been a curious, scholarly lad.  Always in th' attic readin' up on the old lore and legends that even me people brushed off as faery tales.  But I knew better.  I knew that there was a speck of truth in them. How d'you reckon that I stay young forever, Harry?  Traditional magic that only recycles the power from Mother Nature can only do so much, a few decades at most.  To achieve the impossible, sacrifices are unavoidable."

The moon has gone from the sky, Harry realises.  It's an eclipse and the night is dark.  Another howl pierces the chilled air.  Niall shouts in that peculiar language of his and the wolves seem to reply.  Several heartbeats later, a wolf with sleek black coat and green-and-gold eyes trot towards them.

"This is an old mate of mine, Zayn," Niall introduces casually. "He comes from a long line of werewolves and were-creatures tend to live for centuries lest they get hunted down by ignorant humans.  With my help, however, he is as good as immortal."

"What do you want from me?" Harry asks.  His heart clenches and he has to force himself to not lose his rationale and start screaming his head off.

"Not a lot.  Please do not think that I only used you for your purity, Harry.  I _do_ love ya.  The Moirae weren't wrong to bring us together.  Maybe it was written in th' stars that you become a part of us.  It's nothing unbearable, apart from having to watch your family and friends die because they are mere mortals who are not of the same make. You'll get over it, I assure you."

Harry doesn't notice that Niall is holding a dagger with a handle made from elder wood.  At least, not until the blade slashes across his chest.  Thick, hot blood spurts down his chest and it drips down to the boulder that he is bound to.  His head stars to go light and he fears that he is going to die.  Tears begin to spring up and Niall tuts, leaning down to kiss them away.

"You're not dyin, Harry," Niall croons, running the tip of the bloodstained blade over his own palm. He flips his hand so that the blood falls to the ground. "You are being reborn.  Stronger, more beautiful, and immortal. What more can a lad ask for?"

As soon as Niall's blood makes contact with the ground, the ground starts to shake and bubble up.  Tendrils of shadows rise up and slithers up Niall's hand and sits upon the palm to feed on Niall's blood. Niall winces but stays as still as a statue through it, the wound healing when the shadows leave.  The shadows continue their journey until they are hovering over Harry's body.  They are strange beings, icy cold and blazing heat radiating from them.  Even in his weakened state, Harry can't deny the fact that whatever this is is terribly powerful as it is hideous.

Niall raises the dagger above his head and buries it in Harry's heart to the hilt.  He then commands the shadows.  They drop onto Harry's body eagerly and enters Harry's heart.  Harry can feel it, is the strangest thing.  He should be dead, what with the dagger impaling his heart and yet, he can feel it all too well and vividly.  He screams and screams until his voice dissipates into the air and wishes for death as the shadows spread out in his bloodstream.  It's a curious sensation, the shadows coursing throughout his body as they strengthen and nurture him.  Already, the vicious wounds on his chest are healing and the thrum of his energy is now at a violent intensity, and he can't contain it anymore. The world explodes and he thinks that he can hear Niall's beautiful laugh.  Oh how beautiful he sounds even after all he has done.

Harry doesn't know how much time has passed, but it seems like forever to him.  He is jerked into full consciousness when Niall removes the thrice-damned dagger from heart.

"Wondrous, isn't it?" Niall asks, smirking.

He thought that he would be mad at Niall. But he can't.  New and dark powers hum and tingle under his skin and he wants to laugh and cry and shout and dance with it.  He feels as though his skin would burst, not able to contain the infinite amount of energy it is now imprisoning.

"Yes," Harry admits. He sort of wants to tackle Niall down and kiss him, if he were being honest.  His True Sight has magnified and he can now see the smudges of the Darkness that he could not see in Niall's aura before. The blue of his aura is tinged with exquisite and glitterly black.

"Anything else yer feelin, darlin'?" Niall asks, fingertips trailing down Harry's side.  Harry shivers at the touch, skin still sensitised from the shadow beings having nourished him.

"Want you," Harry rasps out, leaning into the touches.

"Good." Niall's eyes flash with something Harry can't quite make out in his current state.  Within seconds, Niall's own clothes have come off and they are sprawled out on the ground.  Niall is straddling Harry's waist and the younger of the two can't help but moan at the sight and shift his hips. A wicked grin appearing on his face, Niall impales himself upon Harry's already hard cock (he suspects that there was some magic involved).

It's filthy and lust-driven, nothing like the other intimate times they have shared in the past.  The way Niall is pushing himself up and down is out of pure need and greed, albeit Harry can still see the glimpses of love in those hypnotising blue depths.  Tendrils of shadows semi-corporal sweep over them, caging them in.  Some of them touch them and Harry finds himself enjoying it rather than fearing it.  All those human inhibitions are gone from his body now, and he can finally focus in one thing that he has needed most all his life:

Niall.

 

 

 


	2. neamhchiontacht an oíche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I split the story into two parts because I think it's more aesthetically pleasing to the eye haha.

**_present; Sydney, Austraila_ **

"Why are we here again?' Harry huffs, scanning the conveyor belt for their luggage.

"Because," Niall explains for the hundredth time with a fond roll of his eyes.  "Australia's got the best surfing places and I wanna learn it properly."

"You _do_ realise that you can still surf in California, with much less deadly critters that will try to kill you," Harry counters.

"You _do_ realise that we are immortal," Niall deadpans, adapting Harry's tone.

"Poisons are still uncomfortable, I reckon. And it's bloody sweltering here."

"Which is a nice change of scenery from the damn grey cold in London," Niall grouses.  His face lights up when he spots his Hermès travel bag.  The now-bottle blond hauls it off and strides over to Harry's side. "We're gonna go shopping, go watch some stuff at the Opera House and then wine and dine by the harbour as I charm the wits out of ya."

Harry can't help but beam at his love. In the centuries that he has known Niall, he has proven to be full of surprises every now and then.  There was that time when they had gone to some castle in Romania for a week and lived like kings for the duration.  And the time Niall flew them off to the Disneyland for the grand opening and stayed in California for the next few decades.

"Fine. But if you get eaten by some ravenous shark, don't say I didn't warn ya."

 

 

-

 

 

They pick a random beach and stroll down it, walking hand-in-hand and admiring the new view. They venture into the New World very often, preferring to stay in the Old World where magic is stronger in the grounds whereas the New World is full of human taint and corruption.  Australia, thankfully, is full of magic, as Niall points out gleefully.  Even the beach is strong with the earth element, which it helps nullify Harry's terrible jetlag.

Later on in the afternoon, they duck into a random pub and order some drinks. It's properly _arid_ outside and Niall hasn't stopped bitching about it since he tripped over a stray toy on the beach and face-planted.  Harry hears a bit of cheering and a telltale sound of a screeching feedback as someone tries to adjust the speakers and mic.

On a small stage-like area, a group of teenagers are stood there with their instruments. There is a blond one with the guitar, a black-blue-purple-haired one with another guitar, a raven haired one with a bass and a drummer with curly light brown hair.  Harry is instantly drawn to the emo punk kid, something about his innocent yet sensuous demeanor alluring.

"You're starin'," Niall teases. "If you want to fuck a local, by all means go ahead.  Just remember that you are centuries older than that foetus."

Harry blushes. Their relationship isn't strictly monogamous.  Sometimes, they sleep around with other people.  It's cool with as long as they come home to one another.

The kids sing their set and Harry decides that they aren't half-bad. They could work a bit more on their harmonising and putting of bit more edge in their voices if they want to be more punk rock but over all, they are impressive.  Afterwards, Niall nudges Harry in the ribs, pointedly looking at the band.  Harry smirks before he goes to talk to the multicolour haired kid.

"Hey," he says with tilt of his chin. The kid looks like he's running on the post-stage rush and his eyes are still dilated.

"Oooh British," his drummer friend says, laughing.  The dark haired one whispers something into the lead singer's ears and from the way he blushes, Harry guesses that it's something of sexual nature.

"Hi," Harry's target says, sounding awed. "'m Michael." His sunny yellow aura is tinted pink, swirling and mixing seemlessly.

"Harry. You've got a nice voice there.  Bet your fingers are fairly good too," he winks so that there isn't any misunderstanding as to what he means.

"Um," it sounds like Michael choked on air. Grinning, Harry pats him on the back.

"C'mon, I'll buy you a drink."

 

 

-

 

 

One drink turns into five and who knows how much more and Michael is pretty much pissed out of his mind. Harry leans in to whisper loudly: "Wanna go back to my hotel?  My roommate gave me to go-ahead."

Michael's only response is to lick at Harry's cheek.  The English mage takes it as a yes.

The cab ride to the hotel is filled with filthy descriptions of what Harry will do to Michael in the privacy of their hotel and Michael absentmindedly dry humping Harry's thighs. Harry pays the driver in cash (perhaps with a heavy tip) and then drags the young Aussie through the hotel lobby. The elevator is empty when they get in so take it as an opportunity to snog like a couple of horny teenagers.  Michael's good at kissing, his lips allowing Harry to take control and unexpectedly soft and shy against Harry's.

They stumble into the room and Harry gives Michael barely any time to take in the view before he starts to all but attack him.  He tugs at the hems of Michael's clothes impatiently, kissing everywhere his lips can reach.  Michael is very responsive, moaning when Harry licks up and down his bare chest. Harry smirks before he takes one of the pert nipples between his teeth and bites down gently, eliciting a very loud moan from the kid.

"T-tease," Michael stutters out, hips bucking into thin air.

"Such an eager little boy. Tell me, how many times have you thrown yourself at strangers before, hmm?" Harry taunts as he drops to his knees.

"No one. You're my first, _ahhh!_ " Harry pulls down Michael's trousers and pants in one go, exposing his half-hard cock and immediately sucking at the tip for a brief second.

"Really? Wouldn't have guessed it."  

"Not lying.  I--fuckin' hell--I never found the right bloke to, _ngh_ , lose it to."

"Well, Mikey, I assure you that tonight will be the best night of your life."

Harry starts to suck on Michael's dick in earnest, running the tip of his tongue down the pulsating vein on the underside and then focusing on the tip again. It's so clear that Michael has never got blown either because he is letting out all these delicious little sounds and making clumsy attempts to fuck Harry face.  Centuries of having awesome sex with Niall also means that Harry has had time to get rid of hi his gag reflex.  He has no qualms about letting Michael control the pace; it's more entertaining this way anyway. The swirls of yellow that surround Michael are now more of a coral colour, with traces of yellow still left.

Too soon, Michael comes down the back of his throat with a strangled moan and Harry swallows it all, milking the last of the orgasm out of him.

"That was fuckin' amazin'," Michael pants out, nearly collapsing on top of Harry.

"Oh no, love, we're not even close to being done yet.  When you recover, I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling me for days."

And that brings upon exactly the desired effect.  Michael's prick starts to fatten up slowly, the lad blushing bright red.

"Take your time," Harry soothes, a fingertip teasing the sensitive skin of the rim of the Aussie's hole. "We got all night." 

 

Eventually, they end up on the lavish hotel bed with Michael on all-fours, Harry kneeling behind him.  Harry's also got two fingers tucked inside of Michael's arse, curling and uncurling at a maddeningly lazy pace.

"Please," Michael keens, face scrunched up with pleasure as Harry's fingertips ram into his prostate. "I wanna-- I wanna feel it."

"Feel what, Mikey?" Harry asks in the most innocent tone that he can muster.

"More, just more," Michael all but sobs.  Harry takes pity and pulls his hand out, only to push back in with three lubed-up fingers.  Michael cries out and his hips buck forwards.  In the next second, however, Michael rocks back onto Harry's fingers as if his acting on basal instincts rather than rationale.  Harry smirks and crouches down.  He laps around the stretched rim and Michael shudders.  A constant stream of moans leaves Michael's mouth when Harry licks his way inside and teases the area near Michael's prostate, fingers rubbing just shy of that spot.

"Fuck me," Michael pleads, casting a desperate, adorable puppy face over his shoulder.

"I _am_ fucking you," Harry points out, lips still brushing Michael's rim as he crooks his fingers into the sweet spot.

Michael glowers.  "Your cock.  Want you to fuck me good with it," he whimpers.

"As you wish."  Harry drizzles more lube over his condom-covered cock and positions himself at Michael's entrance. When he pushes in, he can feel his powers thrum louder at the feel of it.  Michael is hot and tight around him, and he clamps down around Harry like a vice grip.  It takes a few minutes of gentles kisses and caresses up and down Michael's spine before he is relaxed enough for Harry to even pull out slightly.

It doesn't last long, not that Harry expected it to.  All it takes is several minutes of pounding into the kid's tight heat, hitting that spot in alternate strokes and Michael even comes untouched so hard that some of his come lands on his neck.  Harry doesn't pull out; instead, he keeps fucking into Michael's spasming hole and Michael seems too blissfully fucked-out to care.  He only grunts as he falls onto the mattress and lets Harry do his business.   Harry doesnt try to hold out for long and after he's come, he makes a quick work of disposing the condom and snuggles into Michael.

"We should clean up," he suggests, mouthing at the blob of Michael's come on his neck.

"Don't care.  Let's do it in the mornin'," Michael murmurs hoarsely.

Harry shrugs.  "Fine."

 

 

-

 

 

In the morning, Harry wakes Michael with a blowjob and then teaches him how to give one in return.  They order in the continental breakfast and eat it together.  Harry doesn't miss the way the kid glances at him, like he will miss him when he's gone.

"Will I see you again?' Michael whispers, hands in his pockets.

"Doubt it. But it was nice knowing ya."

He kisses him goodbye and closes the door to Michael's reluctant face.

 

 

-

 

 

"Sooooooooo?" Calum asks, pulling Luke down into his lap and mouthing at his neck. "How was he?"

"A gentleman never tells," Michael tries, knowing that his mates will wear him down sooner or later.

"But Mikey!" Ashton whines. "You are the last of us to swipe the v-card, you gotta tell us a little bit of last night at least!"

"He was good, that's all I'm saying."

"At least tell us an approximation of his dick size," Calum persists, doing his puppy-dog eye thing. He pokes at his boyfriend until he does the same. Damn Calum and Luke for their stupidly good puppy dog faces.

"Big. And he's got talented fingers," Michael admits.

Ashton wolf-whistles. "And how long did ya last? A minute? Two?"

Michael huffs. "At least ten, fuck you very much. Just because I was a virgin doesn't mean that I was on a fuckin' hair trigger."

"Sure, sure, Mikey," Ashton walks over to pat his shoulder. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

One day, Michael vows, he might actually murder his mates and make it look like an accident.

 

 

-

 

 

"How was that punk twink?" Niall asks, lazily tracing patterns onto Harry's naked chest. Harry knows that Niall is drawing invisible Celtic symbols on his body, as Niall has a habit of doing that.

"Aces. Tightest arse I ever fucked."

"A virgin, eh?" Niall asks knowingly. "So hard to come by in this day and age."

"What did you get up to last night then?" Harry asks.

"Drinking and dancing. The usual.  Zayn says hi, by the way."  Niall shrugs.

Harry grips the back of Niall's head and pulls him in for a kiss. It's nice and comforting, having someone to call his own even after centuries of his dark existence. Granted, it was Niall who brought him into his new life but it's also Niall who motivates him to keep on living.

"Think we can make him our next sacrifice?" Niall asks.

Harry shrugs. "Dunno. He _is_ pretty close to his mates, I could see that much in his aura. Would be weird if he vanished."

Niall chuckles and ruffles Harry's hair.  "Which is where our mind tricks come in handy.  Been practising and I think I could muddle up their brains enough so they will think the punk kid decided to find a new life elsewhere in the world. Or even make them forget Michael's existence if I can borrow more power from the Darkness."

Harry pecks him on the nose. "Do whatever you need to. Guess this means that I'll be seeing him again."

"Yes it does. He's at a cafe down the street from the Opera House, so go get 'im, _mo chol beag_."

 

 

-

 

 

Harry decides that bluntness is the best approach for this sort of situation. So he seats himself down in the chair next to Michael.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here."

"Same for you," Michael retorts. "Thought I'd never see you again."

"Well, seems like Fate wanted us to meet again," Harry muses.

"Alright then. You ordering something to eat?"

Harry nods. He and Niall no longer have to eat, but they do have to keep up appearances. He orders a grilled cheese and a cup of tea. Michael nods approvingly at his choices.

"Was wondering if you were up for another round," Harry says, after the server comes around with his food. "Last night was really good, if I'm being honest."

"Would love to. Man, my mates are never gonna let me live this down. They never thought that I'd never get laid, like _ever_."

 

Oh if only Michael knew what awaited him.

 

 

-

 

 

That night, Harry takes Michael out to the Uluru.  They have to fly there in the afternoon and Harry assures Michael that there is no need to pay him back as he is 'independently rich'.

He takes Michael to the base, where tourists aren't crowded about thanks to Niall's handy little trick and the sign that reads '<i>do not enter.</i>' He knows that Niall is there, cloaked in the shadows and watching them carefully.

"Outdoor sex, huh?" Michael smirks.

"Yup. Gotta try it at least once."

Harry mutters a few incantations under his breath, invoking the power of the Darkness. He knows that Uluru used to be the Aborigines' site of worship so there should be some formidable powers that govern the area.  Once he is done, he kisses Michael to distract him as he uses magic to bind Michael to his spot.

Niall steps out of the shadow and smirks at Harry's handiwork. "Nice. Would have gone for something stronger but to each and their own, babe," he stands on his tiptoes to kiss Harry's lips.  Soon it turns into a proper snog and Harry doesn't stop him.

"What going on?" Michael asks, panicking.  "And how'd he appear out of thin air?"

"Magic, young one," Niall explains. "And you're our next sacrifice, it seems."

Michael's face blanches, which Harry didn't think was even possible.

"Relax, love. The Darkness enjoys some fight but not too much."

The night air grows icier and icier as Niall starts to chant in a raspy language that Harry still can't speak fluently even after all these centuries.  Wispy tendrils of shadows grow out of the ground and surround the three of them. 

It's obvious that Michael is anticipating his own death.  His body has gone rigid and tears are leaking out of the corners of his eyes.  He is muttering prayers under his breath and Harry has to admit that it's cute how Michael is clinging onto the thread of hope.  So _innocent_.  Instead of life, however, the Darkness takes something else entirely from the Aussie.

"Huh." Niall muses.  He communes with the Darkness and as the shadows rescind into the ground, he grins.  "Seems like the darkness only wanted his humanity.  Whatever.  Better run before he tries to rip our throats out, Haz.  He will be miserably insatiable."

They leave Michael, fucking _vanishing_ into thin air.  The invisible chains seem to have gone from his wrists and ankles.  His hands fly up to rub at his throat, which feels like it's on fire from inside and out.

 

He wanders the desert aimlessly, looking for something that will quench his body's cravings.  He stumbles upon a person, someone his own age and his eyes are alight with concern and suspicion.

"Ya okay, dude? You don't look so good," the stranger says.

All Michael can focus on, though, is the heady scent that rolls off of him and the throb of his pulse in his neck.  The vein jumps, calls out to him, beckoning.  Asking to be torn apart and bloodied and destroyed beyond repair.

Before he can process what it is that he wants, he sinks his teeth deep into the human's throat.

 

 

-

 

 

"That was fun," Harry muses as they fly over the middle of the Indian Ocean.

"Told ya it would be. I was lookin' forward to some killin' though. Too bad the Darkness didn't want that."

"Still got to wreck his life," Harry reasons and Niall laughs.

"Yep," Niall agrees.  "As we did to ours."

**Author's Note:**

>  _póg na gréine_ : kiss of the sun  
>  _neamhchiontacht an oíche_ : innocence of the night  
>  _chol beag_ : little dove
> 
> I used Google Translate for the Irish phrases in the chapter titles so if they don't make sense at all, please feel free to correct me ^_^


End file.
